


first time.

by lorekeepings



Series: the kinktober files. [1]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorekeepings/pseuds/lorekeepings
Summary: "and now, here they were. standing outside chris’s apartment in the awkward “do you want to come in” phase. of course she wanted to come in. of course she wanted to spend the night."  /  chris and ashley's first time together.
Relationships: Ashley Brown/Chris Hartley
Series: the kinktober files. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608685
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	first time.

**Author's Note:**

> hey, y'all! if this work looks familiar, it's because it is-- this was originally posted as part of my kinktober list this year, but because it was so heavily OCs, nobody really enjoyed it. :0 so, i'm posting all of the fandom parts as one-shots that can be found in the series "the kinktober files" located on my page. i hope you enjoy them! the next one in the series is for the AFTG fandom!
> 
> if you're interested in helping a broke college kid get through her junior year, i am always dating donations via cashapp @ $motherconjurer, and i am taking writing commissions via twitter @CANTATRICKS. if you're interested, just shoot me a DM there and we can get to work on getting you what you want. : )

The date had gone swimmingly, and  _ thank god.  _ Ashley knows she’s stressed how about tonight— she’d already played the scenarios over and over in her head. Imagining dinner burning or them forgetting their reservations, imagining the movie sucking or the film burning or having to go to the bathroom and getting stuck in there for twenty to thirty minutes. But none of that happened, of course; instead, they were on time for their dinner and dessert was lovely— the movie was funny and Chris had commented on how cute her laugh was.

And now, here they were. Standing outside Chris’s apartment in the awkward “do you want to come in” phase. Of course she wanted to come in. Of course she wanted to spend the night. Now that she was free from Dad’s overbearing clutches, she wanted to try so many things with him. Her throat clears, and she pretends not to notice the redness on Chris’s cheeks.

“I’ve got drinks,” he mentions, and that’s where she tunes back in from her internal monologue. 

“Drinks,” she echoes, smiling a bit and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “What kind of drinks?”

“Well, for the gentleman, we have Angry Orchard Hard Cider, and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. For our non-alcoholic friends at home, we have  _ Le Coca-Cola,”  _ Chris laughs, pretending to be a waiter suggesting wines to pair with dinners. It does indeed solicit a laugh out of Ashley, and she wraps her arms around her waist, grinning slightly.

“I wouldn’t mind a Coke,” she tells him. “But you can drink if you want to, I don’t mind.”

“Coke it is!” Chris exclaims, unlocking the door with his equally-nerdy lanyard (a red lanyard sporting the Toronto Defiant, a Canadian e-sports team). Chris’s apartment screamed  _ bachelor pad,  _ in all honesty; it was a two-bedroom apartment, though the second bedroom had been converted into a stream room-slash-gaming room, and it was paid for through his job at the local Best Buy. (Oh yeah, he was part of Geeksquad.) Ashley sheds her jacket, hanging it up on the hooks near the door next to Chris’s while he steps off into the kitchen.

The electric heating is nice on her arms, and she’s pleased with the comfort of his apartment. The lights are low, the music is turning on slowly but surely, and she’s happy. She’s happy with Chris. 

She’s so happy with Chris that she doesn’t remember when he was grabbing her hips or pulling her in, and she doesn’t remember when their lips met over and over again. She doesn’t remember when her blouse came unbuttoned, and she doesn’t remember when he shed his sportcoat. She knows she’s not drunk, and she doesn’t feel high on anything more than his hands on her skin.

Her back hits the bed with a soft sigh, and he’s hovering over her in the low light. He looks so good in that green sweater, and she remembers mumbling that she wants it off of him. He says something, but she can’t hear him over the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. When she doesn’t reply, choosing instead to look up at him starstruck, he laughs a little bit.

“Ash?” He asks, and she blinks to focus back in. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What?” She replies, shuddering a bit in her eroticism. Ashley is embarrassingly wet underneath her leggings, and she chooses not to notice until he’s waving his hand in front of her face jokingly. 

“I asked if you really wanted to do this,” Chris repeats himself, a hand on the inside of her thigh. “We don’t have to.”

“No,” Ashley sits up, smiling. “I really want to try this with you. This is… something I want to do with you, of course. I’m. Well. You’ve heard and made the jokes.”

“That you’re a virgin,” Chris muses, and Ashley nods to confirm. Upon hearing that the jokes that their friend group made were based on some truth, Chris rubs the back of his neck with an embarrassed sigh. “Well, you know it’s not like, a real thing, right? Like, it’s just some thing that the patriarchy came up with, blah blah blah… insert inspirational Sam speech here.”

Ashley laughs a little bit, scratching underneath her eyes. Really, she had already heard the speech from Sam once or twice when she vocalized her concerns with the issue. At max, Ashley had spent a number of hours by herself over the last couple of years with a vibrator in one hand and her cellphone in incognito mode in the other. “Chris,” she tells him, smiling a little. “It’s you. It’s always gonna be you— I want my first time to be with someone I trust, and I trust  _ you.” _

He pauses, waiting for the silence to quit ringing in his ears a little bit— instead, he smiles down at her, settling himself in front of her, their hips lined up together. Chris doesn’t verbally respond to her claim, but instead his fingers slip between her legs, rubbing at Ashley through her leggings. She shivers a bit at the touch and even more so at the silence that was still hanging overhead. Her body shudders against him, her body more sensitive than the average person’s, and she rocks her hips into his fingers. Short auburn hair splays out onto the pillow underneath her, and she tries to hide a little bit of a whine— okay, so  _ maybe  _ she was putting on a little bit of a show for him.

And it was working.

His hands wander up her body, feeling every curve and the softness of her belly underneath the large sweater she had put on overtop of the solid-color pants, warm fingers reaching to the underwire of her bra. Ashley’s eyes, bright and doelike, look up at him as he begins to undress her, removing the first article of clothing gently, and with care. Once exposed, Ashley shivers a bit at the cool of Chris’s bedroom on her skin, and she wraps her arms around herself to hide the cream-colored bra from the man above her.

“Hey,” he scolds her, pushing her hands away. Bringing her wrists together and over her head, Chris’s nose touches against hers with a smile. “You’re beautiful. Stop that.”

With her face reddening the more he speaks, Ashley nods a little bit in response, trying not to appear too overwhelmed before him— this was something she wanted, of course; the lack of lights and the closeness of Chris’s body heat were just a little overwhelming. “You, too.” She encourages him, nodding to the navy-blue pullover he’d worn on the date. Once Chris realizes what it is she wants him to do, he pulls away, shedding the jacket and then the grey button-up underneath.

They were two sides of a mirror, it seemed: Ashley was curvy and soft, with lots of love to hold onto and stretch marks from failed attempts at dieting and workouts. Chris was slender and lean, with very little muscle on his body but enough limbs to wrap himself up around someone like her and hold on tight. Tentatively, Ashley’s hand reaches out to touch Chris’s bare chest, fingers trembling a bit as she explores him. After a moment, he places his hand over hers and sets her back on her back— but not before unclipping her bra. (Josh had shown him a secret he learned from a bad porn about how to unclip a girl’s bra one-handed— and it worked every time.)

He gently takes her in his hands, their lips meeting again as his fingers roll over her nipples.  _ Cute,  _ he notes, feeling how hard her nipples have already gotten with the cold and the anticipation.  _ She’s really, really cute. _

Their lips separate, connected via some spit post-sloppy makeout, which Ashley quickly wipes away out of embarrassment. Grinning, Chris pulls down her leggings, letting her slide out of them all the way while he takes off his jeans. Her panties were matching in color and style to her bra, and for a moment, Chris wonders if this was her plan all along. When he turns back to her, with an embarrassed little smile on her lips, he laughs and pulls down her panties as well, leaving her naked while he himself still wore his khakis.

“Nah-uh!” She half-giggles, half-gasps, leaning forward and yanking his belt off of the belt loops. “Not fair, Chris Hartley, not fair at  _ all!”  _

“Oh, my,” he fake-gasps, a hand on his chest and the shittiest faux-Shakespearean accent he’s ever attempted leaving his mouth, “You’re telling me, Miss Brown, that I am unable to gaze upon the fairest maiden in all the land while she is without dress? How rude and disrespectful to such a work of a-aaa—” He’s shut up quickly by her mouth on his, her fingers looped into the empty belt-loops of his khakis, and any other goofy words he would have wanted to say melt into a low, soft moan.

When she pulls away, he blinks a few times, and she clears her throat to get his attention. They’re starry-eyed, their face only lit from the small desklamp Chris has at his gaming desk, and Ashley’s chest rises and falls. Seemingly breathless, her words leave her like a whisper. “Not to be rude, but like… can you fuck me now, please?” (She’s slowly running out of her courage, but she can’t tell him that.)

“Needy,” he laughs, but encourages her onto her back all the time. Shedding his khakis altogether, followed by his boxers, he reaches into the sidetable to the left of his bed, pulling out a condom and sliding it on. 

She’s wet, and he loves every minute of looking at her, watching her react to his fingers. He puts in one finger first, smiling briefly down at her before adding another. Ashley whines at the presence of his fingers in her now, sighing happily as he pumps two fingers in and out of her: he’s sure she’s heard all the horror stories about the first time hurting. He likes her— he  _ really, really likes her —  _ and doesn’t want her to suffer just because it feels good later.

When he slides into her, it’s like they both share fireworks. Chris lets out a low, guttural groan and Ashley gasps with anticipation. There’s some mild discomfort mainly because Ashley’s never tried to do anything like this before, but he gives her as much time as she needs to get adjusted before settling in. Their fingers interlock, and Chris holds her hands above her head again, willing to let go at the slightest mention of discomfort or pain.

“Move,” she tells him, sighing softly. “Please.”

When he does, she feels her whole world rock— whining against his shoulder, Ashley throws her head back, legs spread and body open for Chris to use as he pleases. Her mouth is dry with anticipation, her world crumbling down around her. (Given, she thinks this would be a million times better if she had her vibrator on her clit like she did when she was alone.) Being alone is fun, but being with Chris— knowing that it’s  _ Chris, Chris, Chris,  _ that’s making her feel good is so much better.

She moans his name against his shoulder, and at some point he’s let her hands go in favor of cradling her head. Her arms tuck underneath his armpits, short but manicured nails dragging down his back and demanding some semblance of friction. As she claws lines into his back, Chris hisses through his teeth, and Ashley gasps in response, hands up so she could quit.

“No, no,” he whispers, kissing her cheek in praise. “It felt good. Didn’t hurt at all. I like knowing you’re holding on.”

Their bodies melt and pull away, her fingers down his back and his fingers tangled up in her hair (gently pulling but not enough to hurt her). Her ankles lock around his waist at one point, and he can’t quite remember but he feels like he ran his tongue over her nipples at another (and Ashley  _ really _ loved that). As temperature rises in the room, their moans growing in tempo and frequency and pitch— 

Ashley pauses as Chris’s abs tighten, his body rattled with his own orgasm. Laughing a bit in pure ecstasy, he kisses her neck in praise. His cock twitching with the throes of his climax, he pushes himself up like a pushup, green eyes and foggy glasses looking down at her soft, doelike own. There’s a pause, and Chris’s smile becomes a bit of a frown. “You didn’t cum,” he observes, running his tongue over his lips.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ashley tries to reason with him, smiling. “I’m fine.”

“Nope,” the blonde man declares, rising from the bed to toss the used condom away. “You deserve one, Ashley Brown, and I’m gonna be the man to give it to you.”

Ashley pretends to ignore the skip in her heartbeat when she hears the familiar buzz of a very familiar toy. She doesn’t try to hide the smile on her face as he holds it up for her to see.


End file.
